1. Neither the bright dawn with its rays,
Nor the clouds with their gentle rain,

2. Can excel his brilliance and power.
Neither the tall mountains with their heights,

3. Nor the sincere praised by the people,
Can surpass his glory and merit.

4. The nearby towns cannot match his generosity,
When the year ends, dusty and bleak.

5. Without his protected army and aid,
His victory would be but bits of glass and necklaces.

6. He is cool and gentle in his affection,
And rough and deadly if betrayed.

7. When the honor of religion sought the path of highness,
Everything else below it looked yellow.

8. The abundant pilgrims cannot lack his guidance,
Nor can they equal him if they reflect.

9. So he remains, with praises overflowing, as long as
There is darkness, and as long as the dawn whitens and clears.